The summer before sixth year for Harry Potter was filled with grieving for the only family he knew and finding excuses to be alone with Ginny Weasley since she was the only one who made the loss less painful.
"Effloresce"
"Chapter One: Nightmares"
The day after Harry arrived at the Burrow, the smell of bacon wafted throughout the house. Ron gave out a particularly loud snore as Harry rolled out of bed, noting that it was only a quarter past five in the morning. There was no point even attempting to go back to bed. His nights were plagued with nightmares of Sirius falling through the Veil or wishful thinking dreams where Harry had opened the mirror, only to wake up being disappointed and angry at himself. He threw on a Gryffindor Quidditch t-shirt and carded a hand uselessly through his hair. He grabbed his glasses on his way out of the bedroom.
Mrs. Weasley hummed at the stove as she put on more bacon, eggs, sausages, and tomatoes in what looked like a full English breakfast. Mr. Weasley already sat at the rickety kitchen table eating and reading the newspaper with Harry's picture from the Triwizard Tournament. He looked bloody, his body trembling on the front page. He didn't bother to read the headline, bile rising in his throat at the very thought of the night Voldemort returned. Instead, he looked over at Ginny who sat curled up like a cat in one of the chairs with a cup of tea in her hands.
"Morning, Harry," Ginny greeted.
Harry smiled and made his way towards the table.
"Oh, Harry, dear, you're up early!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed. "I made Arthur his breakfast first thinking none of you lot would be up so early but you and Ginny seem to be the early birds this morning!"
"I couldn't sleep," Harry replied as he eased down next to Ginny at the table.
Mrs. Weasley stiffened at the admission, her head turning slowly towards him. Even Mr. Weasley sat his paper down and looked intently at him. Harry suddenly realized his mistake. He opened his mouth, wondering how to say that he didn't have a Voldemort dream but instead just couldn't plain turn off his brain from thinking about how Sirius was dead because of him, when Ginny touched his wrist. Their eyes met.
"It's not…" Harry gulped, his green eyes searching her brown. "I just couldn't sleep. Nothing, nothing's wrong or anything."
Harry tore his gaze away from Ginny to look over at Mr. Weasley before shooting Mrs. Weasley what he hoped was a reassuring smile. Relief flooded her face.
"Do you need some tonic to help you sleep, dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked. "I can brew something today for you."
"I'm fine. Thank you, Mrs. Weasley," Harry replied.
"Let me know if you change your mind, dear," Mrs. Weasley said as she turned back to the stove, flipping the bacon with a flick of her wand. "I was thinking of making some for myself today. I've been having trouble falling asleep at night lately."
Harry didn't know if that was true but felt grateful nonetheless. That feeling was short lived as Ginny's hand left his wrist. His gaze snapped towards her, the warmth of her touch made his chest constrict for reasons he couldn't entirely explain.
Before he could totally process why, a cup of tea and a glass of pumpkin juice was sat down in front of him. Mrs. Weasley squeezed his shoulder in greeting before she made her way back to the stove.
"Thank you," Harry said. "Do you need help?"
"Oh, I'm fine. You relax, dear."
Harry only nodded as he grabbed his tea and leaned back in his chair. He glanced over at Ginny who seemed unnaturally quiet, her eyes staring down at the cup in her hands. He had grown accustomed to her talking over the past few years. When she wasn't placing her elbow in butter and blushing like the setting sun, she was rather fun and hilarious. He couldn't help but wonder if he did something despite just arriving at the Burrow.
"Do you want to fly today?" Ginny asked as she turned her gaze towards him.
"Uh, yeah, sure. That'd be brilliant," Harry replied.
"I was thinking of trying out for the team this year," she continued as she turned her seat to face him. "For Chaser. Not Seeker, so don't worry your position is safe."
"You think you're a better Seeker than me?" Harry asked, his lips curving up. "Really?"
"Um, yeah," Ginny replied as she kicked her leg out and shoved his thigh with her toes. "You may have pure talent, but so do I. I beat your girlfriend, didn't I?"
Harry winced. "She's not my girlfriend anymore."
"Bit stupid of her, if you ask me," Ginny said as she laid her legs across Harry's lap, crossing them at the ankles.
Harry shrugged. "I wasn't the best boyfriend in the world."
"She didn't make it easy."
Harry didn't say anything as he didn't exactly know what Ginny meant by that. Sure, Cho cried all the time and wasn't all that much fun, but she was nice and pretty. Maybe if he knew how to properly comfort someone it would have worked out better. Except he wanted to run anytime she had cried. Patting one's girlfriend awkwardly on the back wasn't the best way to comfort someone, he knew that. He just didn't know what the best way was. He wasn't even entirely sure if he could call Cho his ex-girlfriend since they had only been on one disastrous date. Merlin, he was pathetic.
"Ginevra, get your feet off of him!" Mrs. Weasley hissed as she sat plates of food down in front of them. "He's not a stool!"
Ginny rolled her eyes dramatically as she moved her legs off his lap. "If he cared, he would have told me."
"It's rude," Mrs. Weasley continued.
"All right, Mum, it was rude of me," Ginny agreed in a monotone as she looked over at Harry. "Forgive my rudeness. I know you're not a stool or a footrest or any other inanimate object."
Harry chuckled. "I'll let it slide this time."
Ginny winked at him before she turned towards her breakfast. It wasn't long before Hermione joined them and a short while later Ron stumbled into the kitchen half asleep. He took a seat across from Harry with a small smirk gracing his face.
"Morning," he said as he piled food onto his plate. "You're in my seat, Ginny."
"What? What are you going on about?" Ginny asked, her head cocking to the side.
"I always sit next to Harry. I'd ask you to refrain from taking my spot at meal times in the future."
"Funny, I was here first," Ginny replied. "Harry sat down next to me."
Ron pointed his bacon at Harry. "You were here second? Or Hermione?"
"Uh, I was here second?" Harry replied, his brows furrowing as he wondered why in Merlin's name that even mattered.
Ron's grin grew impossibly wide. "You know what, I take it back. You sit wherever you want, Harry. I can sit across from you. It's fine."
"I'm sorry?" Harry said more than a little confused.
"Don't be. Forget everything I said. You can sit next to Ginny," Ron continued, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. "I approve."
"What?" Harry questioned. "Approve of what?"
"Nothing. Nothing at all," Ron replied as he smiled into his pumpkin juice. "So what do you want to do today?"
"Ginny suggested we go for a fly," Harry replied.
Ron grinned impossibly wider as his eyes flickered over to Ginny. The smile was short-lived as he grunted when Harry heard the distinct sound of a foot hitting a shin. Ron swore and shot a rude gesture to Ginny across the table. Harry just felt even more confused. The three of them all liked to fly, so he didn't see what the issue was.
"You'll stay close to the house," Mr. Weasley spoke up as he folded the newspaper. "Ron, you know where you can't go beyond. Show Harry so he knows."
"Of course, Dad," Ron replied. "I know."
After breakfast, the four of them dressed for the day before heading outside. Hermione lounged on a blanket with a book while the other three mounted their brooms. Ron pointed out where the wards were set and Harry took careful note of them. He didn't want to do anything that would upset the Weasleys or that would send him back to Privet Drive for safety concerns. He could play by the rules even if nobody thought he could.
They tossed a Quaffle around for a while. Ron acted oddly by kicking the ball when he couldn't catch it and causing Ginny to groan in response. Harry wasn't entirely a fan of tossing the Quaffle. He would have much rather played a pickup game where he could Seek but they had nowhere near the number of players to even attempt to make it work.
Before long, Ron grew bored and flew down to pester Hermione. Harry only rolled his eyes as Ron wrapped his arms around her to attempt to steal her bookmark and she laughed at his attempt. They laid on the blanket, Ron on top of her, as the two looked so close to kissing it was pathetic when they actually didn't follow through.
Ginny hovered on her broom beside him, her legs kicking back and forth as she looked out past the trees. He glanced over at her, noticing that her shoulders were already pink. His gaze wandered across her body as his eyes connected the dots of her freckles. When he stopped on her cleavage, he felt himself stir. He swore a freckle pattern on her left breast looked like a little Snitch. He wanted to trail his finger across it and point it out, but then he realized how terribly inappropriate that was. Friends did not touch each other's breasts.
"Do you want to race around the house?" Ginny asked.
Harry drew his gaze off her breasts, his eyes trailing up to the little silver choker necklace with butterflies dangling from it and then up to her soft-looking lips and then her pink sun-kissed nose and then to her sparkling brown eyes.
"What?" Harry asked.
Ginny smiled. "Do you want to race around the house?"
"Uh, yeah, sure. That sounds brilliant."
"Four laps," Ginny said. "Loser has to serve the other one lunch!"
Ginny took off without a second's notice. Harry tore off after her, his eyes catching a spot of skin above the waistband of her shorts and the hem of her vest. His eyes were too busy staring at Ginny's backside that he almost hit a tree branch, just barely swerving out of the way. He frowned, shaking his head as he attempted to focus on where he was going. Except Ginny rocked on her broom, her arse lifting from side to side and Harry couldn't concentrate to save his life.
When they finally touched down, Harry frowned as he hopped off his broom. Ginny shimmied her shoulders as she walked towards him, a wide grin plastered across her features. Harry found he couldn't even be mad at her victory given how happy she looked. Not being able to help himself, his lips curved up as Ginny flung her arms around his neck and then patted him on the back.
"Good thing we're in the same house or else I would annihilate you on the Quidditch pitch," she whispered in his ear as she rose on her tiptoes, her lips brushing against his lobe. "Now carry me inside for some lunch."
She pulled back, her grin wider than it had been before. Harry's brow furrowed as he looked at her, confusion clearly written on his face. Carry her? How? She only rolled her eyes and twirled her finger to indicate he should turn around. He did so and he felt her hands grab his shoulders.
"Bend down," she commanded.
He crouched down, a slight panic building in his chest. Did she want a piggyback ride? He had never given anyone a piggyback ride in his life. Where did he put his hands? Where would she put her hands? How high should she sit on his back? Did she hold on? Did he support all of her weight? His eyes screwed shut as he attempted to picture classmates around Hogwarts and picture the actual hold but he came up empty.
"One. Two. Three," she counted.
Suddenly, her body smacked against his back. His hands flew to her thighs, gripping them tighter than was probably necessary but he didn't have any clue what else to do. Her arms hung lazily over his shoulders as her cheek rested against his unruly mess of a hair. The only thing he could think about was how soft her thighs were against his hands, his thumbs brushing against her freckles. He eased his grip ever so slightly when he realized she wasn't at all heavy and it wasn't as bad as he anticipated it to be.
"Oi, Hermione, you want a ride too?" Ron asked as he held out his hand for her.
Hermione blushed. "I, I'm fine!"
"Come on, hop on!" Ron protested as he crouched down and held his arms back.
Hermione chewed on her bottom lip as she looked over at Harry and Ginny. Ginny waved her hand to indicate she should go ahead and do it. Hermione took a deep breath before she placed her hands on his shoulders. She jumped up and Ron caught her with ease, hiking her up higher on his back. Harry vaguely wondered if he was supposed to do that as well so he sucked in a breath before he mimicked Ron. Ginny laughed as he hiked her up his back and they made their way towards the Burrow.
Harry busied himself around the kitchen making sandwiches for both Ginny and him. Ron told Hermione to sit down and said he'd make them something as well. The two of them worked in tandem to make lunch while Ginny and Hermione talked at the kitchen table in low tones. It all seemed so normal.
"What are you smiling about?" Ron asked.
Harry didn't even realize he had been smiling. He schooled his features and glanced over at Ron.
"Uh, I don't know actually," Harry replied. "Just thinking about how… normal this is, I suppose?"
"Normal?" Ron pressed.
"I mean, we're just making lunch for our… friends and all eating together. It's… normal."
"Friends, right, just friends making friends sandwiches," Ron replied. "That's all we are to the girls, after all. Just friends."
Harry looked over at Ron, his eyebrows low on his face. "Uh, yeah. I mean, what else would we be?"
Ron hummed with a frown. "Nothing, I suppose."
The two stared at the sandwiches on the counter before they set off to grab a bag of crisps and cut up some fruit. Harry sat Ginny's plate down in front of her and took a seat beside her while Ron did the same with Hermione. Ginny took a bite of the sandwich and gave a little moan.
"Hmm, why is it that sandwiches always taste better when someone else makes them?" Ginny asked. "This bacon is just the right amount of crispy."
Harry ducked his head, a small smile twitching on his lips at her praise. She didn't let him get away with being modest as she elbowed him gently in the ribs. He merely shrugged and took a bite of his sandwich and thought he would make her a sandwich for lunch every day if she would ask him to.
Harry ran, his lungs burning and his head a cloudy mess. There was no noise around him, his surrounding just an endless pit of darkness. Something strong and heavy wrapped around his chest, knocking all of the air out of his lungs and leaving him gasping for breath. He could barely see Sirius Black through his tears, a blurry mess of black falling backwards towards a shimmering veil.
He screamed, his hands clawing at the arms that held him back. If he could just reach Sirius, he could save him. He knew it, had never been more certain of anything in his entire life. His throat ached from his screams and his chest felt as though it were about to rip open at any moment.
Then… Sirius was gone. Harry had never wanted to die more.
Harry bolted up in bed, his breath coming out in small huffs as his chest heaved and a bead of sweat slid down his forehead. He scrubbed his palms over his face, his fingers pushing into his eyes in an attempt to erase Sirius' face from his eyelids with brightly colored lights.
He threw off the light blanket and swung his legs off the camp bed. His bare toes pressed into the old hardwood floors. He squinted down at his feet as he tried to regulate his breathing. He knew he wouldn't be falling back asleep anytime soon. He was well acquainted with nightmares and the ones about Sirius had been some of his worst.
Harry grabbed a pair of Gryffindor Quidditch sweats off the floor and shoved his legs in. He carded a hand through his unruly hair before grabbing his glasses off his and Ron's shared bedside table, the clock alerting him it was a quarter to two in the morning. He looked around for his t-shirt but couldn't see it in the dark. He doubted anyone would be up at this hour. He would be sure to be back in bed by four to avoid any awkward interactions with Mrs. Weasley who normally was up making breakfast at around five.
He left the bedroom as quietly as he could as to not disturb Ron since his best mate had taken on the role of mother hen ever since Sirius… Harry gulped and shut the door behind him. He padded down the stairs to the parlor to see a stray reading light on by the window and a discarded novel on the table. He picked it up to see a shirtless wizard with long blonde hair staring up at him. He winked at Harry who pulled a face and tossed the book back down.
With a sigh, he decided to sit out on the back deck. He knew he couldn't really go anywhere even though he very much wanted to just walk around aimlessly in the back garden to clear his head. He stepped out into the warm summer air and took a seat on the top step. Resting his elbows on his knees, he looked up at the moon in the sky.
A blur of red caught his eye in the moonlight. He frowned, his eyes frantically looking for the long streak once more. It took him a few moments to spot it again, his eyes watching a long and flowing streak of reds, golds, and coppers soaring through the air. He had never seen anything quite like it as the colors seemed to dance in the silvery light.
The object seemed to dip down, racing closer to him until Harry realized it wasn't some phantom object but a person. Ginny Weasley landed in the orchard, slinging her broom over her shoulder as she made her way towards him. Her long mane of sparkling hair didn't even seem windswept as she lazily ran her fingers through the tips as she made her way towards him.
"You all right, Harry?" she asked as she stopped in front of him.
Harry nodded as he squinted up at her. "Yeah."
She dropped her broom and sat down next to him, her hands cupping his face. Her frantic brown eyes searched his, her thumb brushing along his cheek.
"Did you have a vision?" Ginny whispered. "You're all sweaty."
Harry swallowed. "No, I haven't…" He licked his bottom lip. "I don't have those types of dreams anymore. I think Voldemort is trying to actively keep me out."
"Are you all right?" she asked, her voice still on edge.
"Just a bad dream," he replied. "I'm all right. I just needed some air. I didn't know you were up."
"I had a bad dream too," she admitted, her hands dropping from his face.
Harry's heart twisted, disappointment pulsing through him at the loss of comfort. He reached out and grabbed her hands in his, resting both of their hands in his lap. It wasn't as comforting as her soft fingers on his face, but it was enough.
"I'm sorry," he said.
Ginny furrowed her brow. "For what?"
Harry shrugged. "I just wanted to say it in case… in case I caused you to have bad dreams."
"You need to stop thinking everyone's problems are your fault," Ginny said, giving his hands a squeeze. "You're not that special."
Harry chuckled, his lips curving up as he locked his gaze with Ginny's. "You don't think I'm special?"
"Nope," she replied with a smile. "You're just normal and boring Harry Potter."
"I like that," Harry whispered.
"I'll tell you about my dream if you tell me about yours," Ginny said. "If you want to talk that is. If not, we could go for a fly."
"I don't have my broom," Harry replied with a sigh. "It's in my trunk up in Ron's room."
"All right?" Ginny said, her brows furrowing. "I have a broom you know."
Harry licked his bottom lip. "What? We take turns?"
Ginny laughed. "No, you dolt. We'll ride together. Sometimes I like going up really, really high and just idle up in the clouds."
Harry didn't like the sound of that. He had never shared a broom with anyone. The entire idea seemed too… intimate. He brushed his thumb along the inside of her wrist, his heart hammering in his chest for reasons he couldn't explain. He blinked up at Ginny.
"I've never rode with anyone before," he admitted.
"I'll do all the work. You just sit behind me with your arms around me," Ginny whispered. "Easy."
Harry made a face. "I don't mean to sound all… weird, but I think I'd want to be the one flying."
Ginny cocked her head to the side. "Can't let a girl fly you?"
Harry let out a nervous chuckle. "No, it's not that at all. I wouldn't want Ron flying me around. It's just that… I like to be in control."
Flying had been the only time he had felt like he was in control of his life. So often he felt like he had no say in his life, no say in what he was allowed to do, and like he wasn't even allowed to be the person he wanted to be. There were so many rules and expectations placed upon him that it was suffocating. When he was flying, he was allowed to be free and to be him for once in his life. He knew it sounded silly as he felt stupid just thinking about it, but he liked being in control whenever he could.
"I'll make you a deal," she said as she leaned in close to him. "You can fly us up, take us wherever you want to go. We'll idle the broom and switch positions so I get to fly us down. Deal?"
"Deal."
Ginny grinned at him and Harry felt himself smiling back at her. She stood up, her hands still in his, and pulled him up. Her gaze dropped down at his chest, her eyes growing wide. He looked down, suddenly very well aware that he was shirtless. He cringed inwardly. She probably thought he was mental to walk around shirtless at her parents' house. He really wished he had taken the time to find his shirt.
"Ready?" she squeaked.
Harry nodded as he bent down and grabbed the broom. He swung his leg over and kicked off, hovering above the ground just enough where the grass tickled his toes. Ginny hopped up, an adorable grunt escaping her lips. He wondered if he had the broom too high for her as she grabbed onto his arm, her nails digging into his flesh, as she adjusted herself behind him.
Her fingers ghosted his side, sending shivers up his spine like she didn't know where to put her hands. He kicked himself.
"I'm sorry, is this awkward?" he asked. "I didn't think anyone would be up and I couldn't find my shirt and-"
"No, no!" Ginny replied. "I just… is it all right if I put my arms around your waist?"
Harry sighed. "Yeah, put them wherever it's comfortable for you. It's only me."
Ginny wrapped her arms around his waist, her front pressing up against his back. Her breasts pushed up against his back and felt himself stir. Harry was suddenly keenly aware of there being nothing but a piece of worn cotton separating them from his naked back. He screwed his eyes shut, pushing down the untimely desire that coursed through him. She was Ron's little sister, she was practically his… fuck. No, he didn't want that. She wasn't a sister to him. That was weird and awkward and not how he ever wanted to view her.
When her cheek pressed against his shoulder, he gripped the broom handle tightly with his right hand. His left hand, as though possessed as he had no control over what he was actually doing, rubbed her arm around his stomach. Her skin was so soft, so smooth. He had never actually noticed just how perfect her skin was until that moment. She had nice skin.
He kicked off, the broom soaring into the air. Her arms tightened around him as they shot upward at an alarming rate and Harry felt like he had little control over the broom for the first time in his life. His hand left her impossibly soft skin and gripped the handle, pulling back slightly to lower their speed.
He lazily circled the Burrow a few times before he settled on a spot in the air to idle the broom. Loosening his grip on the broom, his thumbs rubbed against the wood and he stared down hard at the little carved G in the handle.
Ginny shifted behind him, the broom wobbling slightly. His eyes grew wide in alarm and he craned his neck back to see Ginny moving. Her palms rested on his shoulders and she jumped up like a cat until she stood on the broom behind him, one foot in front of the other.
"Are you mad?" Harry asked. "You could fall!"
"And you'd swoop down and save me," Ginny replied as she slung her leg over his shoulder.
Harry stilled, frozen as her creamy thigh brushed against his cheek. He forced himself to look ahead at an array of stars and not turn to look at her or else his face would be in her…
Sucking in a shaky breath, Ginny swung her other leg over his head like she was a damn Muggle gymnast. The broom barely moved. It was then that Harry realized his fingers ached from where he gripped the wood to keep them steady. She stood in front of him, a foot on either side of his hands.
"Move back," she commanded. "It's my turn."
Letting out a huff of air, he scooted back as slowly and steadily as he could and Ginny plopped down on the broom in front of him. Except she wasn't facing the correct way. They were vis-à-vis. She propped her thighs on top of his, her hands gripping the broom in front of his hands. Their fingers touched and Harry was very well aware that if Ginny looked down she would be disgusted to see him pitching a tent. Luckily, his bottoms were baggy and hopefully hid him well. He didn't dare look down and check because he didn't want to draw attention to himself.
"Is that your panicked face?" Ginny asked, her eyes dancing in the moonlight.
"I thought we were going to fall and crash into the ground and die," Harry admitted, his voice hoarse.
Ginny laughed. "You're a paranoid git, you know that?"
Harry forced a small smile on his lips. "I've never moved on a broom like that before."
Ginny leaned in close, her nose brushing against his jaw as her lips found his ear. "I've flown a broom standing before. As long as you're confident, you don't fall. It's like the broom becomes an extension of yourself. Haven't you ever felt that before? Like the broom was a part of your very body?"
Harry pushed his head back so he could look at her. "Yeah, I have."
She sat back, their eyes boring into one another. For the first time in his life, he was very well aware that Ginny Weasley was a girl… a very attractive girl. He had never seen her as anybody but Ron's little sister and suddenly she was this woman with beautiful long hair and wearing a vest that showed off just how much of a woman she actually was. He actively had to tell himself not to look at her chest, because he wasn't a creep and she was his friend and best mate's little sister and she was more than just a pair of tits as her face was so gorgeous with freckles and impossibly pale skin and…
Harry held his breath. Merlin, he needed a cold shower. She needed to turn around and fly the broom back to the ground before he did something that they would both regret. She was dating Dean Thomas and he was Ron's best mate. Ginny Weasley was off limits.
"Can I tell you about my dream?" she asked.
Harry blinked at her, his grip tightening on the broom handle. "Yeah."
"I've been having dreams about the Chamber a lot lately," Ginny admitted, her hand reaching up to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear, her eyes casting down the broom. "Except we aren't kids like we were back then. You're you as you are now. I'm me as I am now. He kills you. You fall to the floor and there's blood. There's so much blood. I look down and the blood is on my hands and I know I did it. I killed you because he's in me again. I can't fight him, I can't push him out. I'm powerless."
Harry's grip eased on the broom. He reached out his hand and placed it upon her bare thigh and gave it a squeeze. His other hand rested underneath her chin and gently pushed her face up to look at him.
"He doesn't hold any power over you anymore, Gin," he whispered. "The diary is gone for good. You're safe."
Ginny sniffed, a stray tear escaping the corner of her eye. Without thinking, without feeling awkward or uncomfortable, he reached up and wiped the tear away with his thumb.
"I dreamed about Sirius dying… again," Harry admitted. "I've been having nightmares nightly about that night. Every time, I just watch him die and I don't do anything. It's like living the same day over and over again and I just want it to stop." Harry licked his bottom lip, the words spilling out before he could stop himself because it felt so good to tell someone what had been plaguing his dreams and even consuming his daily life. "It's not like I haven't lost anyone before, but this feels different. It feels so different and it hurts so much more. I miss my parents. But not in the same way, if that makes sense. I mean, I miss the idea of having parents and having someone to talk to about things and have that kind of… parental love, I guess. But I didn't even know my parents' names until I went to Hogwarts."
"Harry, that's… your aunt and uncle are awful people," Ginny whispered.
He only shrugged because he already knew that. "I knew Sirius. I… I loved him, you know? He was like a dad to me. I could talk to him, tell him anything. He was just there to listen and offer advice. He talked to me like I was a person and not, and not Harry Potter. I knew things about him. I knew what annoyed him and what made him laugh and I knew his birthday and I bought him gifts. Sometimes I go to grab a piece of parchment and start writing him a letter and then I remember. He's not here. It… it hurts, Ginny, and I don't know how to make it stop hurting."
Harry looked down, upset with himself when his vision became blurry. The last thing he wanted to do was cry his problems out with Ginny except she made it easy. She made him want to talk. She made him want to seek comfort. He had been so at ease with her even last year when they ate chocolate in the library and he admitted to her over everyone else how he wished to speak with Sirius. He screwed his eyes shut and told himself to just stop. While he felt comfortable telling her about his nightmares and sadness, she may not want to hear it. She would be too kind to say anything.
Arms wrapped around him, tugging him forward. His check connected with her shoulder as one of her arms wrapped around his shoulders and the other hand massaged his scalp. His entire body tingled and his muscles relaxed. His eyes opened and he realized for the first time in his life that he felt truly content. This was how someone was meant to comfort someone. It had been what Hermione had always sought from him but he could never give her until she stopped even trying with him and would seek out Ron. He could picture how Ron would pull her close to his chest and run his fingers through her hair and the way her body would melt against his. It was what Cho expected from him but he didn't know how at the time. Harry was very acutely aware that he never wanted to leave Ginny's arms, never wanted the moment to end.
"I killed him, Ginny," Harry whispered what he had been thinking since that awful night. "It's my fault that he's dead. It's my fault that everyone around me dies. I just want to be normal."
Ginny pulled back and Harry knew that there was no arguing with him. She wouldn't be able to look at him any longer. A lump formed in his throat as her hands cupped his face, her palms running down his cheeks. Her thumb brushed over his bottom lip and Harry's entire body tingled once more. He craved more of her touch, wanted her pressed up against him, to make the tingling feeling never leave. He had never experienced something so wonderful and so satisfying before.
"None of it is your fault," Ginny whispered. "Just like none of what happened with the Chamber of Secrets was my fault. We were chosen, twisted and manipulated. He likes hurting people, Harry. He likes hurting people emotionally more than physically. We can't let him win, we can't let him break us or make us feel like we're the issue. We're not the issue. He is. He's vile and cruel and demented."
Harry nodded, not trusting himself to speak.
Her hands left his face, sliding down like melted butter until they were pressed on his bare chest. He knew his heart was beating fast, knew that she could feel just how erratic his heartbeat was. He leaned forward, his body possessed, wanting to feel her closer to him. She leaned forward too, and Harry thought that their lips were going to meet at any possible second.
Except they missed. Her cheek brushed against his, her hands gliding up to wrap around his neck. A tinge of disappointment flowed through him as he joined in on the embrace, holding her close to his chest. They could have stayed like that for minutes or hours or even days. Harry didn't know as he lost himself in just how warm she felt against him. When she pulled back, her lips brushed against his cheek as she kissed him.
It wasn't where he wanted her to kiss him, but even her lips against his cheek made his body explode with fireworks. He had never experienced something so amazing and satisfying in his life. He wanted more of her lips on him, more of her soft skin pressed against his, more embraces, more broom talks. His heart ached in a way it had never ached before.
"I'm always here," she whispered as they locked eyes. "To talk, to take a broom ride with, whatever. We're good friends, aren't we, Harry?"
Friends.
Friends.
Friends.
Harry wanted to crawl into a hole and disappear forever. Here he was thinking about her soft lips, her cleavage, her smooth skin, her shimmering hair… and she was just being a good friend to him. He was so bloody stupid. Of course, they were friends.
She. Was. Ron's. Little. Sister.
"Yeah," he croaked. "I like to think we're really good friends."
The last word was hard to even say, feeling bitter and awful in his mouth. Hermione had hugged him loads of times over the years and he had never once thought about her skin or lips or breasts. He just bided his time and wanted the embrace to be over with. She was like an annoying little sister who wanted to hug just a tad too long and dig herself knee-deep into his life. With Ginny, it was so, so different. He never wanted her embraces to end, never wanted her lips to touch his so badly before in his life. Even with Cho, he was nervous and scared at the very prospect of kissing her. What if he did it… wrong? With Ginny, there was no fear. If he did it wrong with her, he suspected she would just laugh and tell him how to do it correctly. He would laugh along with her, maybe pinch her hip, and they would continue on their merry way. Nothing seemed hard with Ginny. It all seemed impossibly easy.
"Let's head to bed," Ginny whispered. "I feel loads better now, thanks, Harry."
Bed? Suddenly the thought of following her up to her bed flashed through his mind and he squashed the thought before it could form. Friends. They were friends.
She gave his wrist a squeeze before she shifted on the broom again, her bum brushing against his thigh. She was in front of him, but he was afraid to get too close. She would surely know he had an erection if he scooted too close behind her. He couldn't very well hide the damn thing. He scowled down at himself, wishing he was a little less obvious.
Sucking in a breath, he placed his hands on her sides. She leaned forward, her vest hiking up. Harry's thumb reached down to brush a cluster of freckles. He swore he felt her tremble beneath his touch as they descended.
Once they touched down, they dismounted the broom. Ginny slung it over her shoulder and the two of them walked up the porch. They entered the kitchen, Harry holding the door open for her so it was easier for her to maneuver the broom in. They were silent as they made their way through the house and up the stairs. When it was time to part, Ginny rose up on her tiptoes and pulled him into a one-armed hug. The embrace was too brief.
"Night, Harry," she whispered.
He opened his mouth to bid her goodnight as well, but she was gone before he had the chance. He stood alone in the dark hallway, his heart hammering in his chest. He reached up to touch the spot where she had kissed him earlier. It was still slightly sticky with her lip gloss. He smiled as he crept back into Ron's bedroom. As he slid into the camp bed, his mind filled with sparkling red hair in the moonlight, he didn't dream of Sirius dying for the first time all summer.
Hope you enjoyed the first chapter of this short little story about the summer before Half Blood Prince where Harry and Ginny become impossibly closer and Harry starts to realize there's more to Ginny than just friendship. Don't forget to drop a review! They inspire me to keep writing, they give me ideas, and they plain just make my day. This is part of the Moment in Time series (a list of stories are in my profile) but this story can be read as a stand alone. Don't forget to check me out on Tumblr (seriouslysam8) for updates and where I answer your questions.
Special thanks to Bell for editing. Special thanks to Brie who inspired this entire story and that I, not so secretly, call Brie's HBP story.